One Heart
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Post ROTJ AU. Luke and Vader have destroyed the Emperor... but something goes horribly wrong, and the Skywalker family must deal with the aftermath. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH!
1. Chapter 1

**One Heart**

**Kenya Starflight**

**Rated PG (or K+)**

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yup, it's another challenge fic, based on the "ER challenge" on the Luke/Vader site. An explanation of the challenge will be posted at the end of the fic, so as not to give anything away…_

_Suffice it to say that this is a departure from my usual fare of long, humorous, "fluffy" fics. This is a very short, very angsty fic, and the reader will be well advised to have some tissues handy._

**Part 1 of 3**

Chaos.

The Imperials seemed totally oblivious to Luke's presence as they stampeded past him, blindly intent on escape. Not one stopped to help him, not one fired a shot, not one even gave him a second glance. In their crazed panic to get off the doomed Death Star before the Rebels immolated it, and them with it, they had no attention to spare for the sight of Luke Skywalker dragging a crippled Dark Lord away.

"Father," he groaned, struggling to support the wounded Sith's weight. "Father, you have to help me…"

Vader chose that moment to collapse, nearly taking Luke down with him. Wincing at the pain of the electric burns Palpatine had inflicted upon him, he grasped his father's arms and pulled him across the hangar, toward the shuttle that meant safety.

"Luke…" groaned Vader. "Don't… do this…"

He reached the ramp of the shuttle, and he knelt at his father's side to catch his breath.

"Leave me…" Vader ordered, his voice terribly weak. "I am not… worth your life…"

"I have to save you," Luke said stubbornly.

"You already have…" The electronic voice trailed off.

"Stay with me!" Luke ordered, shaking Vader. "You can't give up now! We're almost there!"

Vader moaned, as if the very act of staying alive was too much to ask.

"Come on," he pleaded, struggling to pull Vader onto the shuttle. "I can't lose you again."

Reluctantly, Vader unearthed the strength to pull himself to his feet and limp aboard the shuttle one laborious step at a time. Luke stayed at his side, allowing his father to lean on him for support, guiding him to a bunk in the shuttle's sleeping quarters. Belting Vader in for safety, he assured him he'd be right back and ran for the cockpit.

Great cables hung from the ceiling outside the shuttle, jerking dangerously and spraying sparks about the hangar. Flames billowed from a hallway. Stormtroopers, officers, Death Star personnel, and Palpatine's lackeys scurried about like a nest of spined-ants someone had poked with a stick. Shuttles were packed to bursting, and brutal brawls ensued in the scramble to vacate the station. Curiously, no one seemed to notice that one shuttle was almost empty as it rose and swept away.

And not a moment too soon, as a powerful shock wave slammed into the shuttle and propelled it toward the Sanctuary Moon.

Luke sighed deeply, feeling a great wave of relief. The Death Star was gone. The Emperor was dead. At long last, the Rebellion had won.

And Luke had won as well. For he had his father back.

_/He's more machine now than man, twisted and evil/_ Obi-wan had once said. In a sense, the Jedi Master had been right… and yet very wrong. For though Vader was indeed a cyborg, kept alive only by machinery, his heart remained human. He had slain the Emperor and saved Luke's life. Anakin Skywalker existed after all. It had taken a crisis to draw him out, but he had returned.

He was tempted to set the ship into orbit and go back to check on his father. But he decided against it, instead homing in on the nearest medical cruiser. Vader needed a doctor, and fast. All that Force lightning couldn't have done his life-support systems any good…

A wing of X-wings appeared on his scope.

_/Uh-oh, they don't know if I'm friendly or not/_ he realized. He keyed on the comm.

"This is Luke Skywalker. Repeat, this is Luke Skywalker. I have an injured man on board. Requesting permission to dock."

No answer. The X-wings locked their S-foils into attack position.

"Repeat, this is Luke Skywalker, with a wounded passenger aboard! Repeat, this is Luke Skywalker! Hold your fire!"

Ribbons of fire streaked across empty space, and the ship rocked with the impact. Gritting his teeth, Luke transferred all power to forward shields and continued to shout into the comm.

"Abort! Abort! I'm Luke Skywalker! I'm Luke! Cease fire!"

Nothing. No reply. And the sickening realization hit home – the ship was keyed onto an Imperial frequency. The Rebels couldn't hear him. And they could only assume, since he was in an Imperial ship, that he was an enemy.

Hoping Vader was belted in tightly enough, he executed a tight roll to dodge the next volley of fire. The shuttle was fiendishly difficult to maneuver, but he managed one narrow dodge after another as he frantically tried to switch channels.

"Home one to unidentified shuttle, surrender immediately or you will be destroyed!"

Found it! He turned the volume up to ensure his message would be heard.

"Hold your fire, this is…"

The ship jerked violently from a direct hit. Sparks fountained from the console. The shuttle spun out of control, twisting like a corkscrew until the medical cruiser's tractor beam finally caught hold of it.

Luke never finished his sentence. In his haste he hadn't fastened his safety harness, and the thrashings of the shuttle had jolted him from his seat. His head slammed into the bulkhead, sending a blinding flash of white light across his vision and a blast of incredible agony through his skull.

Then the pain ended as swiftly as it had begun.

_Break…_

On Endor, the Ewok celebration was well underway. Bonfires dotted the village, bathing every tree and hut and figure in golden light. Both the natives and the Rebels were in exultant spirits, dancing to the tribal music provided by the Ewok warriors, sharing eager embraces, laughing and joking and exchanging congratulations. Food and drink were consumed in great quantity, and if a few of their numbers would pay for their overindulgence in the morning… well, it would be excused under these circumstances. And yes, their remained much work for the Alliance… but tonight it could be forgotten. Tonight they could savor their victory.

Leia was in no mood to celebrate, however.

Han strode over to the rope bridge where she stood, waiting, seeking any sign of a young blond man in black.

"Waiting for your brother?" he asked.

She turned to him with a smile. "Thank you for understanding, Han."

He smirked. "Hey, if it gets rid of the competition, I'm okay with it." He took her in his arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "He'll be back. Don't worry about it."

She looked away, her throat closing. Han could be certain of that, of course. He didn't know what she knew… he hadn't felt what she'd felt…

_…a jolt of impact, a flash of light, splitting pain in her skull so horrible she thought she would pass out, a startled cry…_

"Leia?" Han squeezed her arm gently. "Come back, Leia. Your mind's off in hyperspace somewhere."

She gazed into his eyes. "Han… I feel that something's happened to Luke."

His brow furrowed with concern. "He wasn't on the Death Star when it blew, was he?"

"No. I know he wasn't. I can feel it. But he's hurt…"

Han held her close. "Luke has come out of a lot of messes okay, Princess. He'll be just fine."

The bridge rocked slightly as someone approached, and Leia released Han to turn and look.

It wasn't Luke, but a medical technician. The middle-aged Mon Calamari had a grave look in her wide, moist eyes.

"Princess Leia, there's been an accident."

Her gut lurched, even though the words didn't surprise her at all. "How badly was Luke hurt?"

The technician looked slightly surprised that she knew Luke had been involved in the accident, but she didn't mention it. "Pretty badly. Apparently he evacuated the Death Star aboard a stolen Imperial shuttle, and a party of X-wing pilots misidentified him as an enemy target and opened fire. They tore the shuttle up pretty badly before the med cruiser's tractor beam caught it."

"Idiots," Han snarled. "Didn't they try contacting the shuttle first?"

"They had no knowledge that Luke was aboard the Death Star in the first place," the technician replied. "They had no reason to believe there would be a Rebel aboard." She paused, as if steeling herself for the next piece of information. "Darth Vader was aboard the shuttle as well. He, too, was wounded, though less severely."

"Vader?" repeated Han, stunned.

"It would be like Luke to help him," Leia replied. "He… he has a generous heart." She knew the true reason, of course… but she couldn't speak of it. Not yet, anyway.

"What about the kid?" demanded Han.

"Major head trauma," she replied. "Too Onebee is assessing the extent of the damage right now. He should have a complete diagnosis by the time we get back."

Taking a deep breath, she followed the tech, Han close behind.

_/Please/_ she prayed to whatever deity might be listening_/let Luke be all right./_

_Break…_

Vader awakened to make a few interesting discoveries. For starters, he couldn't move. His arms and legs were cuffed securely to the medical cot on which he found himself. Also, his entire body throbbed and ached – no surprise seeing as he had nearly been executed via electrocution. The pain was most intense just beneath his ribcage. Curious. As far as he knew, he had never been injured there, even in the fateful duel with Kenobi…

The duel… not that one, but a more recent one… with his son…

_/Luke/_

Recent events came rushing back. They had defeated the Emperor, they had overthrown him together, just as Vader had dreamed of doing for so many years. And then… Luke had saved his life. Despite all Vader had done, Luke had rescued him from sure death aboard the Death Star. They had made their escape… then the ship had been attacked…

And he'd impaled himself on a twisted jut of metal. He remembered now. The force of the impact had been enough to rend the ship apart, and strapped to the bunk as he'd been, he hadn't been able to dodge the hazard. Then again, if he hadn't been secured, he could have been much worse off…

Someone was whispering in the doorway, and he caught his name in the mix. He lay perfectly still, wishing he could quiet the hiss of his respirator in order to hear better. As it was, he could barely make out the words.

"…keep him comfortable. Mothma's orders." That would be a medical droid. The synthesized voice was deep and oddly emotional.

"Why are we treating the chaos-spawned Sith in the first place? We should dump him out the airlock!" That second voice wasn't a droid but organic… and very angry.

"Mothma has instructed us to treat him as we would any other patient in his circumstances. We don't stoop to the Empire's level. Copy?"

"I guess…"

"Good. Remember – no heroic measures, no ventilators, do not resuscitate."

So they had access to his medical records – and had discovered the living will he had drafted without the Emperor's knowledge. Strangely enough, he felt a sense of relief at that. He had no idea how badly he was injured, but from the droid's tone, he would probably die shortly. And the Rebellion fully intended to let him die – something he'd wanted for years. Stang, death would be a welcome relief after all the hell the Emperor had put him through…

No, all the hell that he had put himself through. It had been his decision to follow Palpatine, his decision to slaughter the Jedi, his decision to murder, destroy, torture, subjugate…

"If you have any questions, check the file. I must see to Skywalker now."

"All right." That second voice was much more subdued now – almost a whisper. That disturbed Vader. What had happened to his son?

Metallic footsteps signaled the droid's departure, and the human doctor entered the room, his face carefully blank. He said nothing as he checked the monitors, performed a brisk examination of Vader (as best he could with the armor), inspected a thick bandage that Vader just now noticed across his abdomen, and made notes on a chart. Vader made no move to engage the man in conversation – the man saw him as an enemy, a Sith, something evil and putrid. Speaking with him would do no good.

Finally the man looked him in the eye. "Pain?"

"No," Vader lied. He suspected that, even if he admitted he were in pain, drugs would not be readily forthcoming from this man. "An explanation would be good, however."

"You have mild burns from some sort of electrical field and a deep puncture wound to the abdomen that ruptured your liver," he replied, mincing no words. "Actually, 'shredded' would be a better choice of words. I'll be perfectly honest – you'll die within days without a transplant."

_/And no doctor in their right mind will perform a liver transplant on an Imperial warlord./_ "What of Skywalker?"

The doctor gave him a look that plainly said "none of your business." Aloud, however, he said, "Information about patients is strictly confidential."

"I must know," Vader replied.

He could have used the Jedi mind trick, of course, or a show of force to coerce him into talking. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The less he used the Force from this point forward, the less chance he had of resorting to the dark side again.

The doctor didn't bother to disguise his hatred as he addressed Vader, all medical professionalism discarded in his disgust. "Evidently Skywalker saw something in you worth saving, Lord Vader, because he gave his life to save you."

Vader's head jerked up. Had he not been strapped down, he would have shot bolt upright. "What?"

"From all appearances, he was so concerned with your safety that he neglected his own. In the attack he suffered massive head trauma, and the med droids have detected no brain activity. Luke Skywalker is brain dead. I hope you're happy."

For a long, shocked moment, all was still.

Then a wild, heart-rending howl filled the room, and anything not fastened down rattled ominously as the room filled with an unspeakable power… the power of a Force-wielder who has suffered a terrible loss. Throughout the cruiser, Rebels cringed as they felt the grieved cry of the Chosen One.

_/No… it can't be… no… I can't have lost him again…/_

But the Force confirmed it when he lashed out wildly, seeking his son's mind somewhere, anywhere. His heart still beat, machinery still inflated his lungs… but his soul was gone.

_/My son… my son…/_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 of 3**

This couldn't be happening, Luke thought. This had to be a nightmare, a perverse nightmare. He couldn't be dead!

Obi-wan gave him a sympathetic expression. "I'm afraid it's the truth, Luke. The blow to your head killed you."

The two of them stood in a small, sterile chamber aboard the medical cruiser, watching Too Onebee tend to a prone form that Luke was shocked to recognize as himself. A plastic mask was taped over his nose and mouth, and monitors had been connected to his arm, chest, and temples to record his vital signs. One monitor showed a slow but steady pulse; another measured respiration rate and volume. The droid was keeping a careful eye on one screen in particular, one that remained ominously blank.

"He's attempting to measure your brain waves," Obi-wan explained.

"No," Luke insisted, shaking his head. "I'm not dead, Obi-wan. Maybe I'm having a near-death experience, but I'm not dead." He pointed. "Look, I'm breathing…"

"Only with the aid of the respirator," Obi-wan replied.

"But I have a heartbeat! How can you be dead with a heartbeat?"

"Your body lives, Luke," Obi-wan said sadly. "But your brain does not. The human body is a marvelously complex thing, but without consciousness, without a brain, it is merely a sack of meat. And I'm afraid that, during the accident, your brain was almost totally destroyed. There remains enough of the brainstem to ensure your heart beats, but that is all."

Luke stared at his mentor, then at his body. Not now. Not when everything had finally been going so right!

The door hissed open, and a Mon Calamari medical technician led two figures in.

"Stang," Luke breathed. "Leia, Han, no…"

He had never seen Leia so shattered. Only once had she come close to this kind of devastating sorrow in his presence – when she had told him of Han's capture and freezing at the hands of Fett and Vader. But even then, there had been a fierce hope in her eyes, the knowledge that they would find and liberate Han. Now there was no such trace of hope. All Luke could read in her deep brown eyes was grief.

"Luke," she choked, pushing past the technician and kneeling at his body's side, clasping his hand in hers. "Luke, I'm here. Please, Luke, if you can hear me, give me some sign…"

"He cannot hear you, Princess," Too Onebee told her. "His faculties have ceased to function."

Han stood over Leia and clasped her shoulders. The pirate's face, which normally bore a smirk or a look of exaggerated indignation, was now set in an expression of deep pain.

"My readings have shown no sign of activity," the droid informed them. "And the cranial scans indicate that the damage is irreversible." The droid paused, as if arranging the words in a manner that would inflict the least amount of pain. "We have Skywalker's organ donor files. As you two are the closest he had to a family, it is my responsibility to ask your permission before…"

"No!" Han replied quickly. "You're not cutting Luke up for spare parts!"

"The operations will be as non-invasive as possible," Too Onebee replied. "When the retrieving of the organs is complete, the body will still be available for burial."

Leia pressed the body's hand against her lips, tears glistening on her cheeks. "Please… give us a little more time to think…"

"That is acceptable." Too Onebee left the room.

Luke wanted to go to Leia, to embrace her, to assure her that he was all right and that nothing had happened. But some otherworldly influence prevented him. Somehow, he knew that attempting to touch Leia would violate some unspoken code.

"They are truly your friends," Obi-wan murmured, smiling. "More so than you know."

Luke watched Han reach down and touch the blond hair, like an older brother would stroke a sleeping sibling. Han… Han, who had been like a brother, who had always joked and kidded with him, who had saved his life several times… who had been a true friend for so long…

Leia… his first crush, now his sister… an odd combination of damsel in distress and warrior queen, something to both protect and rely on for protection… who had accepted Luke without question from the first moment he had seen her in person aboard the first Death Star…

"Please," Luke pleaded, turning to Obi-wan. "Let me talk to them. I have to say goodbye, at least. I never got to say goodbye…"

"Soon," Obi-wan assured him. "But not now. There is another we must check on."

And in the time it took to blink, they were in a different room. Luke shook his head, bewildered. It hadn't felt like they had moved an inch. Rather, it was as if the rooms had moved around them. It was all very confusing…

"Father…"

For there lay Vader, cuffed to the bed, his torso heavily bandaged, and a guard posted at the door, nervously fingering a blaster and eyeing the wounded Sith warily. But Vader showed no sign of hostility toward the guard. Indeed, if it hadn't been for the hiss-whoosh of his respirator, Luke would have thought his father was dead as well.

"The knowledge of your death has cut him deeply," Obi-wan murmured. "You were right, Luke. There was good in him."

Luke turned to look at the white-haired Jedi. The man looked upon Vader with sadness, sympathy… and oddly enough, regret. There was no anger here, no hatred. Not that Luke had ever pictured Obi-wan to be the type to harbor a grudge, but he reasoned that, if there was a creature in the galaxy Obi-wan had good reason to hate, it was Vader.

"I think," Obi-wan murmured, "that it's time you learned the entire story about your father."

Luke nodded. "I think so too."

_Break…_

Han and Leia spent hours in Luke's room, talking to him, holding his hands, silently hoping for a flicker, a movement, a sign of life. Other visitors stopped in briefly, exchanging comforting platitudes, but for the most part, they were alone in their vigil.

Chewbacca and Wedge were the last visitors, the former moaning softly upon seeing Luke's silent form, the latter with a stunned, pained expression, as if he had just been slapped by a close friend.

"I didn't want to believe them," he murmured. "I thought it was a rumor…" He knelt beside Leia and stared at Luke's still face. "I can't believe he's gone."

Chewie threw back his head and gave a long, low, emotional howl. Han left his post at Luke's side and embraced the Wookie, burying his face in the long tangled hair to hide his tears.

Leia felt hollow, as if someone had cut out part of her heart. Luke had filled a void in her life, a void she hadn't realized was there until it was suddenly empty again. He had always been a brother to her, even before his startling announcement…

She closed her eyes in fresh pain. She had lost her brother… but her father remained.

Only Han knew of their bond. She had explained it to him right after the Death Star had exploded. And surprisingly, he was quite accepting of it – even of her blood link with Darth Vader. "At least it explains how you got so stubborn," he had joked.

She would never forgive Vader, father or not. He had caused her too much pain, physically and otherwise. He had tortured her, forced her to watch as her planet was destroyed, frozen Han and given him to Boba Fett, harassed the Alliance for so long…

And if Luke had never attempted to save Vader's life, Luke would not now lay here, a vegetable, devoid of life. She couldn't -- wouldn't – allow herself to hate Luke for that, and so she directed her anger toward the Sith Lord. It was damnably unfair. The beast who had wreaked destruction and pain wherever he went lived, while her brother, the last of the Jedi and a noble, kind warrior, was lost to her forever. Tears burned her eyes again. Why couldn't it have been Vader who had suffered that head injury…

Too Onebee entered the room. "The visitor limit is four. I must ask one of you to leave."

"But there's four of us," protested Wedge.

"A fifth has requested permission to see Skywalker," the droid replied. "Darth Vader."

Chewie snarled.

"Vader?" Wedge repeated, shocked. "Why in the galaxy would he want to see Luke?"

Han looked at Leia. "Wedge was… is one of Luke's closest friends, Leia. He should know."

Leia nodded. "Wedge… Luke is my brother."

Wedge's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Then this is a deeper loss than I first thought…"

"There's more. Vader… Vader is Luke's father."

Wedge nodded. "I know."

Leia blinked, surprised. "You know?"

"Luke talks in his sleep," Wedge explained. "One night I got up to use the 'fresher, and I heard him saying something about Vader and his father, ending with 'Ben, why didn't you tell me?' I never told anyone, and I never treated him any differently for the knowledge." His gaze moved to the silent form on the bed, then hardened as it moved to the doorway. "But Vader hasn't exactly been a stellar father, has he? Why would he want to see Luke now?"

"There is no reason why he cannot enter," Too Onebee pointed out. "He is a blood relation. And there will be guards at the door for your protection." He paused, calculating. "Under these circumstances, I shall overlook the four-visitor limit. You may enter, Vader."

A hiss of breath, a whirr of a repulsorchair's anti-grav…

The Dark Lord was not quite as she remembered him. No proud, intimidating warlord here – this was a man wounded and broken in more ways than one. Leia could tell that any movement caused him pain, and there was something about the slump of his shoulders that indicated that he, too, was deeply grieved by Luke's death.

Vader didn't look at any of them, only maneuvered the repulsorchair to Luke's side. With a trembling black-sheathed hand, he brushed back the hair that covered his forehead.

"My son…" he murmured.

"Don't touch him," Han ordered sharply.

Vader drew his hand back slowly. "I intend no harm."

"If you haven't noticed, we don't exactly trust you," Wedge informed him.

Vader's gaze never left Luke's face. "I did not come here expecting trust or sympathy. I came to see my son. As his father, am I not allowed that right?"

"You were never his father," Leia snapped, the agony she felt finding an outlet at last. "He might be your offspring, but you were never a true father. Why, all of a sudden, do you want to be a father to him now?"

Vader trembled as if her words had been a physical blow, and she regretted the outburst immediately.

"You're right," he acknowledged. "I have never been a father. Until a few years ago, I did not even know I had a child. My wife… Luke's mother… died many years ago. And I believed the child she carried had died with her. But when I learned that a young Skywalker existed, one the exact age as Padme's child would have been… I was determined to find him."

Padme… Bail had once told Leia that her mother's name had been Padme…

"I loved Luke. I never wanted to hurt him. I will never forgive myself for cutting off his hand on Bespin. And I will never stop hating the memory of the Emperor for convincing me that the only way to see my son again was to turn him to the dark side." His gloved fingers closed around Luke's hand. "After I killed the Emperor, I wanted nothing but death. It was the only fate I deserved. But Luke would have none of it. He practically dragged me into a shuttle and belted me in. He saved me… he saved my soul from the Emperor… and he saved me from death…"

Those great shoulders shuddered, and he lowered his head in shame. "My son… why didn't you listen? I told you to leave me… my life was not worth yours…"

Leia stared, uncomprehending, at Vader as his words sank in. He loved Luke. As impossible as the notion seemed, it was true. And he had never wanted Luke to sacrifice himself for Vader's sake.

Chewie was the first to move. He stepped forward, growled something, and placed a massive paw on Vader's shoulder.

"He says he's sorry," Han said quietly. A pause as the pirate wrestled with himself, then, "I'm sorry too."

Vader didn't look up, but he did nod. "Thank you."

Leia knelt beside Vader, keeping her gaze upon Luke's face. "He would have wanted you here. I know it."

"He wasn't the type to hold a grudge," Wedge added quietly.

Slowly, Leia, Han, and Wedge began to open up, sharing observations on Luke's character, recounting stories and memories. Vader mostly listened, absorbing the information like a sponge, determined to learn all he could of his son's life.

And during that time, Leia found it very hard to hate him.

_Break…_

Far away, in a seldom-visited glade deep in the Naboo forests, Luke and Obi-wan stood before a stone marker. A cluster of blossoms had been hewn into the granite, and etched into the stone beneath the flowers were the words "Padme Naberrie Amidala, daughter, sister, Senator, Queen, friend, mother."

"The last was added at my insistence," Obi-wan informed Luke. "Her family did not want it included, as they believed the babies had perished with her, but I convinced them that, simply because the children had never been born, it did not mean she wasn't a mother." He smiled sadly. "I often think back on that terrible day and wonder if there is something I could have done differently… but I think nothing I could have done could have changed it."

Luke knelt before the grave marker, silent, contemplative. He and Obi-wan had spent hours here as the Jedi Master had told Luke the entire story of Anakin Skywalker's fall. It had quite surprised Luke to learn that it had not been hunger for power itself that had convinced him to choose the dark side. The power he had sought had merely been a means to an end – saving a life. Vader had acted despicably, yes, but he had acted out of love, not selfishness or greed.

"It had been my hope," Obi-wan said suddenly, "that you would carry on the Jedi tradition once the Sith were abolished. But there is little you can do now, I'm afraid."

Luke gazed up at Obi-wan. "Are you sure there's no way to heal me?"

Obi-wan shook his head. "Palpatine was lying to your father when he said there was a way to keep people from dying. If there is a means for the Force to preserve life, it has yet to be discovered." He placed a hand on Luke's shoulder. "I have spoken with Yoda, and it has been decided that there is some guidance you can provide beyond the veil. However, another will be needed to ensure the Order lives on."

"Leia?"

"She would be the most logical choice. But she is untrained. She needs a mentor."

Luke sucked in his breath. "You'll have Father train her?"

"It is the only way, Luke. Vader… no, I suppose it's Anakin now… Anakin is the last Jedi. It is up to him now to resurrect the Order."

Luke's gaze moved back to the grave. "Father's so badly hurt, though…"

"Quite right. His internal organs are severely damaged. His heart and lungs were crippled during our duel on Mustafar, and shrapnel pierced his liver during the crash that killed you. He is very weak now, and will probably die if nothing is done."

Obi-wan was hinting at something, Luke knew. There was something Luke had to do, but he wasn't going to tell him. He was going to let him figure it out for himself. Furrowing his brow, he considered…

"I think I know what to do," Luke replied. "The problem will be getting everyone to agree to it."

Obi-wan nodded. "Then go, Luke. Talk to Leia. She will handle the rest."

Luke stood, embraced his mentor thankfully, and was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3 of 3**

She was running through the hills outside her father's estate on Alderaan – not fleeing an enemy, simply running for the pure thrill of it. The wind, sweet with the coming spring, tangled her hair and tugged at her clothes. The grass felt cool under her feet. The warm sun lay across her shoulders like a cloak. There was no danger here, no concern…

But there was someone here with her.

Luke flashed her a daring smile. "Race you to the lake."

"I'll wait up for you," she teased, and was off.

Several minutes later, slightly winded but exhilarated, she felt the soft sands of the lake shore under her feet. She had almost made it to the water's edge when Luke put in a burst of speed and tumbled into her, knocking them both into the water. Gasping with the shock, she disentangled herself from her brother and made to climb out, but he swept an armful of water at her, and she retaliated with a splash. The two of them laughed as they continued the water fight.

It was some time later as they lay sprawled on the sand, letting the sun warm and dry them, that she finally questioned what was happening.

"Did we both die?" she asked. "Is this some kind of paradise?"

"No," Luke replied gently. "It's a dream. I've been allowed to come back and visit you for a short time."

She reached over and grasped his hand. "I don't want you to leave."

"I don't want it either." He squeezed her hand. "But I won't leave you – not really. The Force is with you, Leia. And as long as it's there, I'll be there."

Somehow, that knowledge did more to comfort her than all the words spoken to her that day.

"Leia, there's something else." Luke propped himself up on one elbow. "The Jedi. There aren't any more. The Order has to live on."

She sensed what he was implying. "I'm not a Jedi, Luke. I can't use the Force like you."

"You can with some help," he assured her. "Leia… I know you don't like Father… but he's the only one who can teach you. Promise me, Leia, that you and Father will restore the Jedi Order. The galaxy will never have order until the Jedi return."

She wanted to say no – what he asked was incredibly daunting – but she couldn't refuse. He was her brother. What he asked wasn't a selfish request, but an appeal on behalf of the galaxy. And if it meant that she would have to continue a relationship with the man Luke called Father…

"There's something else," Luke went on. "Father's very badly hurt. His heart and lungs don't work on their own, and there's more damage…" He sat up completely now. "Leia… I want Father to have my organs."

"What?" she exclaimed, sitting upright.

"Please, Leia. Tell the droids to give him my heart, lungs, and liver. And convince Father to accept them. It's the only way for the Order to survive."

Leia knew, with all her heart, that she could not deny her brother anything. And yet what he asked was so huge…

Luke reached over and embraced her. "It's time for me to go."

"Luke…" She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears seeping from behind the lids as she clung to him, desperate to keep him by her side.

"I love you, Leia," he murmured. "I'll always love you." He squeezed her tightly. "Take care of Han and the droids for me."

"I will," she vowed.

_Break…_

"Chewie, hand me that alluvial damper."

The requested item was thrust into his hands, and Han worked on wedging it into the appropriate socket aboard the Falcon. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

The damper hit the floor, breaking apart, but Han didn't seem to notice. Within a fraction of a second he had extracted himself from the Falcon's workings and was staring – no, gaping – at a perfectly healthy Luke.

"Luke!" he shouted. "How did… you're all right!"

Luke smiled. "How's it going, Han?"

"It's… I… Luke…" Han pulled Luke to his chest in a crushing hug. "How did…"

"You fell asleep banging on the Falcon's shield generator," Luke replied. "I'm just visiting you in your dreams. I'm sorry, Han, but this may be the last time we speak face to face for a long time."

Han stared at him, at a complete loss for words for perhaps the first time in his life.

"Thank you, Han, for everything," Luke told him. "You've been a great friend. I'm really going to miss you."

"Yeah," Han murmured, blinking. "You too."

"Han," Luke went on, "I know you and Leia love each other. But Leia needs you more than ever now. She's going to need someone to support her in her training and in her duties to the Order. I'll give her all the support I can, but I'll need you to help her too."

Han smiled. "Luke, I'd never do anything to hurt Leia. You know that. Of course I'll be there for her."

"Good." Luke smirked. "Or I think you'll have a pretty irate father-in-law to deal with."

Han rolled his eyes. "Joy, Darth Daddy."

Luke laughed. "Take care of yourself, Han."

"Yeah, you too."

Luke turned and began walking away.

"Luke?" Han called. "Uh… may the Force be with you, kid."

Luke smiled fondly. "And you too."

_Break…_

Vader's reaction to Leia's request was immediate. "No!"

"It's for Luke's sake," Leia told him, having a seat beside his bed. "He wants this…"

"He still does not understand, does he?" Vader demanded angrily. "I am a Sith Lord, a murderer, a criminal! I deserve death, nothing more or less. I refuse to accept his organs. If he must donate them, let them go to an injured Rogue or someone else who may need them."

"He doesn't want anyone else to have them," Han replied. Leia had told him everything, and for one who had professed not to believe in the Force, he was surprisingly receptive to the idea that Leia had met Luke in her sleep.

Vader leaned back and glowered at the ceiling. "I'm not worth saving. I told him that so many times. And he refused to listen. He died for me – died! – when he should have left me to die…"

"And you'll have him die in vain by giving up!" Leia exclaimed. "Vader… I can't call you Father yet… if you won't do this for yourself, do it for him." She sighed, deciding to tell him the entire truth. "And do it for the Jedi. Luke is gone. I promised him I would restore the Jedi, but I need training. You're the only one who can teach me."

Vader laughed bitterly. "The one who destroyed the Order, your Jedi Master? You would do better to find Yoda or some other Jedi who escaped…"

"Yoda is dead. All the Jedi are dead. You are the last, Vader. You have to help me." She leaned forward and rested a hand on his arm. "You're my only hope."

Vader was silent for a long time. Leia was about to leave the room to try again another time when he spoke again.

"Your brother… took after me in many ways. He was an exceptional pilot, a cunning warrior, a spirited and headstrong young man. And yet… yet he inherited his mother's heart."

Leia listened, intrigued.

"She was a compassionate woman, always seeking the good in things. You look… so much like her, daughter…"

Leia reached down and clasped his gauntleted hand. "Tell me more. I don't know much about Mother…"

"Another time," Vader replied. "For now, I would like a moment of rest. And I will think on your request."

She nodded, then stood and left the room.

_Break…_

The desert suns pounded down on his shoulders as he shot across the sandy wastes, leaning into the curves, hot wind blasting his face and robes. The hoverbike beneath him thrummed with power. The horizon on every side shimmered with the heat. He inhaled deeply of the dry, grit-filled air and punched the throttle.

It was good to be home.

A speck blinked into existence on the horizon, shooting toward him at breakneck speed. As it approached it resolved itself into a black-robed rider straddling a hoverbike identical to his own. The second rider flashed him a challenging smile as he roared past, his blond hair flapping in the wind. Grinning with the thrill of the chase, he executed a tight turn and pursued the other rider.

He pulled up even with Luke, and almost as one they shrieked across the desert, uncaring of victory and simply reveling in the raw energy of the race. Stars, had he died and reached some kind of heaven? If he even deserved heaven… but for now he would not question…

At last Luke slowed to a halt, and Anakin cut the engine to ease to a stop beside him. Climbing off their bikes, the two men embraced each other.

"I thought I would never see you again, my son," Anakin breathed.

"I had to do some fast talking to the Jedi Council," Luke replied. "If they're as stubborn now as they were then, I can see how you had problems with them."

Anakin released Luke and stared into those brilliant blue eyes, so much like his own. "My son, why? Why did you save me? And why did you ask Leia to…" He couldn't finish.

Luke smiled. "That's what family does, Father. They look after each other, to the point of being willing to sacrifice all. From what Obi-wan told me, you know that."

He did indeed know that – all too well. "But Luke, you know what I am. I'm a monster. I cannot accept your… offer. Surely there are others more deserving of it than I."

"No, Father. I want you to receive the donation."

"How can I, knowing my son died before his time in order to give it to me?"

"You accept it knowing it can give you a second chance at life. You accept it knowing that not everyone gets a second chance. And you make good on that second chance."

Anakin hesitated.

"And do it for Leia. She's a Jedi now. But she needs a Master. You're the only one who can be a Master for her." Luke flashed him a knowing look. "Look on the bright side – maybe you can take the opportunity to correct some mistakes in the Order."

Anakin choked back a burst of laughter. The Jedi Council would go into conniptions if they heard the blasphemy coming from Luke's mouth right now!

"I have to go now." Luke held his father close one more time. "I love you."

"And I you," Anakin murmured, tears welling in his eyes. "Thank you… for everything."

_Break…_

_One year later…_

There were two markers in the Naboo glade now. Beside Padme's headstone, separated only by a patch of wildflowers, was a white marble edifice solemnly proclaiming "Luke Skywalker – Commander, Jedi Knight, brother, son, friend." Over the etched words, a symbol had been carved, an image of an X-wing fighter over crossed lightsabers.

Seven figures stood before the headstone to pay their respects – Han Solo, Chewbacca, See Threepio, Artoo Detoo, Wedge Antilles, Princess Leia Organa…

And a tall figure in dark brown robes and gloves.

Anakin knelt before his son's grave, one cybernetic hand reaching down to rest upon the soil, as if he sought to touch his son through the layer of earth that separated them. He had been true to his promise to his son, taking Leia under his wing as an apprentice. Though not quite as strong in the Force as her brother, she was learning quickly, and it would not be long before she was ready to take on students of her own.

The transplant operation had gone smoothly. He and Luke had shared blood types, making them the ideal donor and recipient. The scars Anakin bore from his duel with Obi-wan would never vanish entirely, of course, and he would always need occasional medical attention. But he was free of the mask, a forceful blow against the darkness of his past and a sure step away from that twisted era of his life.

He placed his hand to his chest, feeling the heart beating there… Luke's heart, now his. The heart that his son had inherited, if only figuratively, from Padme now beat in his own body. Luke had quite literally given his heart to his father, making the ultimate sacrifice for him. The price that had been paid for his life still haunted him sometimes, but it also further strengthened his resolve to not make Luke's sacrifice a vain one.

_/I will not fail you, my son. The Order will live on. And I will be a Jedi, like my son after me./_

Leia knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I miss him."

"As do I, Leia," Anakin murmured. "But as long as we remember him, he is not entirely gone."

Wedge cleared his throat, interrupting gently. "We'd better go."

Reluctantly Anakin rose and turned toward the Falcon. But a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Father," Leia whispered.

"What is it, Leia?"

She nodded toward the grave markers.

Anakin smiled at what he saw. Three figures watched them from behind the stones, suffused with an ethereal light, smiling proudly – Obi-wan, Yoda… and Luke.

_/I love you, Luke/_ Leia sent. _/Not a day goes by when I don't think about you./_

_/We will meet again, my son… someday/_ Anakin vowed._ /But I have a debt to pay first./_

_/I'll wait for you/ _Luke assured him. _/We'll be together again eventually. I promise you that./_

**Author's Note**

Okay, NOW I can explain the challenge. The rules of the challenge were to write a story in which either Luke or Vader needed a transplant or transfusion, and only the other could give it.

Normally I would have written something with a lighter feel to it, but the plot bunny for this sadder, more poignant tale popped up and begged to be written, so… there you have it.

Back to lighter fare now…


End file.
